It Was A Long Summer, Charlie Brown
by Age of Continuity
Summary: Charlie Brown is pen-pals with Heather. But no one said that was going to be easy. Takes place right after the movie, CB/PP friendship, other than that can't promise anything, though.
1. Dear Pen Pal

Chapter One: Dear Pen Pal

Charlie quickly remembered a small problem with his summer assignment of being "penpals" - he couldn't write. Whenever he tried, it looked like a four year old scribbling in a coloring book. Why couldn't he just write a few words halfway legible? The lead snapped off the pencil. He had never felt comfortable with pencils (except for that one book report, which wasn't even with his pencil), so he decided to try a pen. Riskier, certainly - no eraser to save you, but who knows? Maybe he would be better with a pen. Besides, he was supposed to be a PEN pal, not a pencil pal. He grabbed one off the table - candy-cane styled with red and white stripes, grabbed a new piece of paper- and tried again.

The pen stubbornly refused to write. Charlie shook the pen, trying to coax the ink onto the paper. It spewed out, covering the paper with a dark, black splotch.

"Having trouble, big brother?" Sally asked, casually observing the paper.

"Yeah. What do you need, Sally?"

"I don't have a calendar in my room."

"So?"

"I don't know what day it is!"

Charlie stared at Sally, his expression blank.

"You were just in school yesterday."

"Well, I've slept since then."

"...It's Tuesday. If you're worried about summer passing you by, you've got about two months left."

"Two months?! I thought there were more..."

"Honestly, I'm glad there's not."

"You're looking forward to school?! That's treason! Blasphem of the highest order!"

"It's 'blasphemy', and at least school gives me something else to think about, besides all my failures."

"I don't remember a whole lot of failures. You didn't even embarrass me this school year."

"Thanks," snapped Charlie. "Shouldn't you be outside bothering Linus?"

"Nah. He's busy with Eudora."

"Who?"

"I know, right? I think he just wants to deny the love of his life as long as possible." Sally got a far off look in her eyes.

"Sure. Whatever you say, Sally. How do you write letters?"

"I don't. You usually write them for me."

This was true. He was the one writing requests of real estate and tens and twenties for Christmas.

"I mean, if you did, how would you start it?"

"Depends on who you're writing to. Santa, Great Pumpkin, Easter Bunny?"

"No, none of those - just writing to a penpal."

"'Dear Penpal'. Duh."

Oh. Why didn't he think of that?

"Thank you, Sally."

"Obviously, you're not just writing to ANY penpal. You're writing to Heather."

"How did you know that?"

"Gossip. It transcends age boundaries. You should probably start it like that though - try something more personal over time."

"You sound like an expert at this."

"It's a girl thing."

...

Two hours later, Charlie gave up on the letter. There was nothing to write about anyway. He decided he could get some advice for when he finally wrote. Linus probably knew something that could help him.

"Hello, Charlie Brown."

"Hey, Linus."

"What's on your mind?"

"Well, this summer assignment...I'd like some advice. I really don't want to mess this up."

"Writing letters? Not a whole lot ways you can. Just be yourself, act like she's right in front of you. Ask her questions about how she's doing. Things like that."

"Okay."

"What are you planning on doing all summer?"

"I have no idea. I think I'll just take it one day at a time, like I always do. You?"

"I have a few books to read in between summer school."

"Seriously? Why are YOU going to summer school? I'M the one who needs help."

"My parents think it could be educational."

"Right."

"Could be worse."

"How could it be any worse?!"

"Camp."

"Camp isn't all bad; it just takes some getting used to..."

"Yeah, well, I'll never 'get used to' having to worry about queensnakes..."

"Queensnakes aren't real, Linus."

"I still believe, Charlie Brown."

"Yeah, good luck, Mr. 'Great Pumpkin'."

...

Lucy's booth was always a pretty welcoming site - although, maybe it shouldn't have been. Still, he could get problems off his chest, and the price was always a nickel; no taxes or fees or inflation, just five cents, no questions asked. Charlie dropped a nickel in the can.

"I wanted your advice about letters."

"Letters?"

"Yes, letters. I want to make sure I don't mess this up, cause Heather really does respect me for what I do and who I am, and I don't want to lose that. These past two days have been the best of my life, and hopefully that can keep going."

"Well, she obviously likes certain aspects of you - your honesty, persistence, etcetera, so try and use that. Be honest, don't talk down to her, be caring."

"How do I end it?"

"'Your penpal' would probably work."

"I was thinking 'Yours truly' or 'Love'...wait, 'Love' wouldn't work."

"Only if you wanted to ruin your stupid letter."

"Okay. 'Your penpal'. Got it."

"Anything else, Charlie Brown? You should really try and get your money's worth out of these visits."

"I think I have."

...

Charlie Brown sat the pen down. He had finally finished the letter, and he still had a bit of daylight to enjoy. He folded it, stuffed it hurriedly into the envolope, sealed it and stamped it. He rushed outside, and put it in his mailbox. In previous years he dreaded going to the mailbox, because he never received anything - no cards, no Valentines, no birthday money. Now, though, he was sure to receive something. He closed the mailbox and ran off. In his hurry, he forgot to put the mailbox flag up.

...

 **Tuesday - First Day of Summer**

Dear Pen Pal,

Hi. I apologize in advance for the poor handwriting. I've never been very good. Perhaps your handwriting is better? I suppose I'll find out when you write me. How is camp? Are you settled in? Make any new friends? See any old friends? Nothing much is happening here. I eagerly await your response.

Your Pen Pal,

Charlie Brown


	2. The Baseball Game (TEAM)

**WARNING** : **IF YOU DON'T LIKE BASEBALL OR HINTS OF CB/PP, YOU'RE GONNA HAVE A BAD CHAPTER.**

Chapter Two: The Baseball Game (TEAM)

The first game of the season. To Charlie Brown, this was like Christmas. The game would be against Peppermint Patty's team (the Pelicans, he believed was their name). Not the most optimistic matchup, but he believed he had a fair chance of winning. He liked to pretend he was a big-league manager, carrying a spiral notebook and scribbling notes - lineups, scouting reports, practice plays, etc. He wasn't going to be Connie Mack anytime soon, but he could do his best. He walked over to the neighborhood sandlot, eager to get the game underway. He saw his team standing around the bench, talking about...something or other. Probably property values or theology with his luck. He also saw...

"Hey, Chuck!"

Peppermint Patty smiled. She wore her usual striped shirt, though purple and white instead of green and black, along with her white cap with a black bill. She and her team was smiling and ready to play as well, but for a different reason; it was always nice to get an easy victory.

"You hear about the weather?"

"No, Patty. Why?

"It's supposed to rain later."

"Perfect."

"Well, who's home and who's away, Chuck?"

"I think you should bat first, Patty. 'Ladies first', after all."

A member of Patty's team, Thibault, (was that his name? Charlie wasn't sure) coughed. Charlie didn't mean the "ladies first" remark as an insult, in fact he took Peppermint Patty (and her team) very seriously. Why wouldn't he?

"Wow, are you sure? We could always do the battle of the bat again..."

Charlie Brown blushed. The "battle", as Patty put it, involved placing their hands up the bat till there was no room. Patty always won, by pulling the "eagle claw", placing her hands over his and ripping it from his grasp. This almost always caused their hands to touch, causing Patty to remark, "You're touching my hand, Chuck..." No, he would prefer to not suffer that.

"No, let's just get this game started. Your team bats first."

With that, both teams began their team meeting.

"Alright, team. A brand new season is upon us," said Charlie Brown.

"Where we will lose every game," remarked Lucy.

Charlie Brown winced. True, he hadn't had any history of winning, but his luck was getting better.

"We have just as much chance as anyone," he said, and he believed it.

"Okay, lineup is same as usual. Patty and Frieda, you two can decide among yourselves who gets left and who gets center. Other than that, no changes. Objections?"

There were none, and so the game began. Thibault led it off for the Pelicans, and he took a moment to stare down Charlie Brown.

"Hey, get in the box!"

"Scared of Charlie Brown? Aw, poor thing!"

"Just pitch to him, okay?"

Ah, he could always be calmed by the sound of infield chatter. He looked down, the ball in his hands. The first pitch of the new season. What should it be? Can't go wrong with a good ol' number one...

Thibault connected. The ball was a line drive - straight towards him. He raised his glove to protect his face, squeezing as he heard the rubber of the glove pop. The ball's momentum threw him backwards, sending him into a tumble midair, head over shoe. He landed headfirst, hard into the dirt, and saw stars. But he still had the ball in his glove, and raised it for everyone to see that he caught it.

"Woah! Charlie Brown caught it," exclaimed Linus.

Thibault threw his bat to the ground in frustration, and Charlie Brown received an "ovation" from the little kid in the stands, the only spectator.

Charlie Brown then struck out the next batter on three pitches, the first time he could remember doing so. Schroeder went out to the mound.

"I can't believe it! I struck him out!"

"Yeah, he's been sick all winter. He started to forget what the sun looked like and stuff. Also, he's kinda nearsighted, and hasn't played baseball before..."

"Sometimes a catcher knows too much about your opponent," Charlie Brown mumbled to himself.

Roy got a base hit off of him, Peppermint Patty hit a run-scoring double, and 5 grounded out to end the inning. In the bottom half, Pig-Pen doubled, Snoopy homered, Linus and Schroeder singled, and it was 2-1. Linus on third, Schroeder on first, and Charlie Brown at bat. Peppermint Patty and her catcher stopped to talk for a minute; she was having an off day, but still pretty good.

"Okay, Chuck. What kinda pitch would you like to miss?"

Charlie Brown just rolled his eyes. It couldn't be to hard to hit a baseball, could it? Patty wound up and fired a blazing fastball. He grit his teeth and swung...

WHOOSH!

Strike one. Next pitch, another heater. He hit nothing but air.

WHOOSH!

Strike two. He choked up on the bat, and kept his eyes fixed on the ball. A slow curve, right down the middle...closer...closer...NOW!

WHOOSH!

He was out. Frieda and Patty (not Peppermint Patty, the other Patty) struck out as well. 2-1, with two innings to go. Royanne homered off of Charlie Brown, tying the game at 2. Shermy singled for Charlie Brown's team, but was left on first to end the second.

"Okay, we're tied and we've got one inning left," said Charlie Brown, "so give it your all out there. One more run, and the game is ours!"

Thibault hit a screamer between second (Linus) and shortstop (Snoopy). Patty's quick throw cut him to a single. The second hitter struck out again, as did Roy. One on, two outs, tie game, and Peppermint Patty at bat.

He smirked and allowed himself a rare boast. "Okay, what pitch would you like to miss, Patty?"

She smirked back. "Give me your best pitch, Chuck."

He reared back and threw with all of his might. She slammed it right up the middle.

CRACK!

It smashed into his forehead, knocking him unconscious.

...

"Hey, Chuck? Chuck?!"

He woke up, Patty standing over him, head still aching. Thibault had already scored, making it 3-2, and out of the corner of his eye, he saw the ball, between home and first.

"I'm fine, Patty," he said. He was kinda seeing double, but he thought it would pass.

Shermy picked up the ball and tagged her on the shoulder.

"You're out."

"Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yeah."

She walked back to her bench, conscious clean, as Charlie Brown stumbled back to his bench.

"What the heck, _Pat_? You could've scored before that loser woke up," Thibault snapped.

"You want a problem, Thibault?! One more word and I'll slug you!" Her cheeks were burning, with anger and embarrassment.

Linus hit a grounder, but tripped over his blanket running to first. One out.

Schroeder popped out to right field. Two outs.

And Charlie Brown at the plate.

"Grit your teeth, Charlie Brown!"

"Hit a homer!"

"Just get on base, ok?"

Peppermint Patty said, "Good luck, Chuck, but I'm gonna throw my best. You ready?"

"Ready as I'll ever be, Patty."

* * *

Charlie Brown walked out into the rain, opening the mailbox and halfheartedly throwing it in. He noticed his letter from yesterday and sighed, putting the flag up for the mailman to notice. It was always something, wasn't it?

* * *

 **Wednesday - 2nd Day of Summer**

Dear Pen Pal,

It's me, Charlie Brown again. What do you like? Just asking, uh, just interested in knowing. I have a passion for baseball, though, if I'm honest, I'm not very good. Today, me and my team had a game. It was against Peppermint Patty and her team. We don't really have the best team, but we're not too bad. Snoopy is an amazing shortstop, catching the balls in his teeth. Not sure that would be allowed in professional leagues. I'm pitcher and manager. I've asked my dad about playing Little League before, but he says that system's broken. He says it focuses on winning too much, rather than having fun. I've never really won before, so I don't know if it's worth focusing on.

It was a close game, though I'm not sure how much you know about baseball, so I'll give you the short version: it all came down to me. I had an opportunity to win the game for my team. And I knew they'd hate me for it if I blew it. I tried, I really tried. But it just...I blew it. I lost the game. And I heard it, the shout from the gallery, "We lost! We lost because of Charlie Brown!"

They say that two teams go out, and the one that wants it more wins. I wanted it so badly. Not for me, for my team. They deserve it, sticking by me through thick and thin.

So, how's camp? I hear it's quite far. I wish I was there. I've never felt comfortable writing letters, it's easier for me to talk to someone, face-to-face.

Your Friend,

Charlie Brown.


	3. The Tree

Chapter Three: The Tree

Charlie Brown had always hated this tree. Every year, without fail, it snatched up his kites and buried them in thick bundles of leaves. In the winter, you could see the graveyard of kites wedged in between the branches. Still, it was shade on a humid, overcast summer day, and so he leaned against it without having to worry about it eating his kite. What to do today? Besides agonize over blowing the game, of course. Mailbox was empty, he checked this morning, so his letters were on their way. He didn't really have any plans.

"Heya, Chuck."

Peppermint Patty sat down on the tree roots. Back to her favorite green shirt, and wearing the same pair of sandals she had wore through the winter of last year.

"Hi, Patty."

"Thinking about yesterday?"

"How'd you guess?"

"You know, some would say you're a bit of a poor loser."

"Poor loser? I'm a good loser. I'm so good I lose all the time!"

"Yeah, but you almost beat us. It was a close game. Maybe against a weaker team you could get a win."

"Maybe."

"What'd you do after the game? I didn't see you around when we went for ice cream."

"Wrote a letter."

"On the second day of summer? You realize you have all summer to write a letter and get one back."

"Yeah."

"Well, I'm waiting till the last week of summer. Maybe later."

"Hope that works out for you. Who's your penpal?"

"Who's yours?"

"Well, I asked you first. But, it's the-"

"Don't say it!" She smacked her forehead. "I remember now. You _like_ her, don't you, Chuck?"

"I barely know her. We talked for, like, two minutes."

"Let me ask you a question: if you could hit a home run with the bases loaded, or marry her, which one would it be?"

"...can I do both?"

"We live in the real world, Chuck. What do you think?"

"Wow, thanks for that." He felt like he had been sucker punched.

"I'm just saying, it's a stretch that _one_ of those happens, with your luck."

"What do _you_ know about my luck?"

"Why are you angry at me now?"

"I'm not."

"Sounds like you are to me."

"I'm not, okay? I'm sorry. I was being defensive."

There was a pause.

"If I had to choose right now, home run. Later? I don't know. It depends. Right now though, the team deserves something good to happen."

"Because you couldn't be the hero yesterday?"

"In a way, yes. They stick by me, even though we're not that good."

"They've all quit, like, five times."

"They came back."

"You always put others above yourself, don't you?"

There was an accusation in there, but Charlie Brown didn't pick up on it. Patty sighed. Another lapse in the conversation.

"Sure wants to rain just like yesterday, huh, Chuck?"

"Looks like it. There always was something lonely about a sandlot in the rain to me. Probably because I would be the only idiot standing there."

"Don't say stuff like that."

"Why?"

"It's not fair to yourself. I mean, at least you get C minuses over D minuses. You're smarter than me."

"Well, there was that one time you got a perfect score."

"But am I an 'idiot'?"

"No."

"But you are?"

Charlie Brown sighed.

"Hey, don't hassle me with your sighs! I'm trying to help you!"

"And what," asked Charlie Brown, quietly, "makes you think you can help me? You think you know how it feels to lose at everything? To never fly a kite, or win at checkers, or kick a football, or just get through the day without embarrassing yourself? Cause I'm pretty sure you don't know how this feels."

Charlie Brown regretted what he said as soon as he said it. Peppermint Patty stared at the ground for a few seconds.

"You're right, Chuck. I don't know how it fells to be you. But I do know from experience that if you go around feeling sorry for yourself, you do it alone. And I mean alone."

She paused.

"Years ago, before we moved here. It was my mom. She had just passed away. Every night I tried to cry myself to sleep, but it never worked. So I started failing my classes. Everyone thought it was a cry for help and that I was being dramatic, but the truth was I just couldn't sleep. When I nodded off in class, a couple girls behind me would flick paper balls at me. If that didn't wake me up, they grabbed my by the hair and slammed my face into the desk." She tried to continue. Her voice cracked, tailed off. She tried again. "One day, they were making fun of me in the hallway, calling me a dumb ugly tomboy, and I realized that it was all true. My dad found out, I put in the bare minimum effort to pass my classes, and we moved here. He left a good job, was always home by six and had plenty of money to spoil me when he wanted to. Now? I'm lucky if he's home by two in the morning, and I hear him stressing about bills, and it's all my fault."

Charlie Brown sat there, dumbstruck.

"And nobody tried to help me like I try to help you. Everyone knew I was going through something, but nobody cared."

"I-I never knew."

"Of course you didn't. No offense, but you're kinda oblivious."

"None taken."

"Then again, who am I to talk? Not like I'm any better."

"You shouldn't say things like that."

"Thanks, Chuck."

Out of the blue, an idea. "We don't have to do it alone."

She smiled sadly. "Maybe you don't have to."

"No, _we_ don't have to. It sounds like we're in the same boat. We can help each other because we understand what we're going through."

"I don't think we're 'in the same boat'."

"We're close enough. Besides, it can't hurt, can it?"

She bit her lip. "Okay."


	4. The Little Talks

Chapter Four: The Little Talks

"And then, she'd kinda grin..."

It had been a week since their first session. They'd always gather under the tree, to shoot the breeze and get loads off their minds. It was refreshing for both of them. Theraputic, even.

"You ever consider that you live in the past too much, Chuck?"

"Not really, no."

"You haven't seen her in weeks."

"Yeah, but maybe I'm living in the future. Maybe that's what 'hope' is, just living in the future."

"I don't know...I always prefer to live in the present myself. Maybe, as they say, the truth lies somewhere in-between."

"I think the truth is just as wishy-washy as I am."

"You know, I saw her a couple times, Chuck. I saw Linus showing her around, her talking with Violet and Patty, stuff like that. I even saw you staring at her from across the playground. And I thought, 'No one treated _me_ like that when I moved here. No body showed me around, or chatted with me, or pined after me from afar."

Charlie Brown blushed.

"And I know why. Because I stood there, and looked at her, and I knew. I realized why you crazy about her, and that no one was ever going to be like that for me. I just stood there and started to cry, and I must have looked real dumb, standing there, crying, but I couldn't stop. I stood there and cried and cried and cried..."

Now he felt extremely guilty. He should have known better than to bring her up, but he just couldn't help it. Patty kept staring at the dirt.

"I have a huge nose and my split-ends have split-ends and I'll always be funny looking..."

"None of that is true, Patty."

"I'm scared, Chuck. What if I grow up, and no one loves me? I know I'm being insecure, but I can't help it..."

"I think about that myself but I don't think it will be a problem for you..."

"Why not?"

"Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. For every thought you have that tears yourself down, there's someone else thinking about how great you are."

"You really think so?"

"Oh, I know so."

* * *

"What is love to you, anyway, Chuck?"

"You're asking me to explain love?"

"Well, yeah."

"I can't explain love! I could recomend a book, or a poem, or song, but I can't explain love."

"Try, Chuck. Try."

"Well...My dad told me he used to have this car. Really old, in great condition. He'd take it to competitions and win a bunch of prizes with it."

"What does that have to do with love?"

"He met this girl and he'd take her for rides around town. He'd always open the door and shut it behind her. Then he'd walk around the back of the car. And when he got to his door it would always be locked, because she would reach over and lock him out. Then she'd smile and wrinkle her nose through the window... she was my mom. That's what I think love is."

A comfortable silence.

"We have weird conversations, Chuck."

He just shrugged his shoulders.

"Not weird in a bad way though. It's kinda nice."

"Yeah...it is."

"Do you think we've become better friends because of this?"

"I suppose so."

"Let's say it's the bottom of the ninth, two outs, and you're up to bat. Would you hate me if I tried to strike you out?"

"I could never hate you. Besides, that's the only way to play the game."

"You kinda like me, don't you, Chuck?"

He just smiled and rolled his eyes.

* * *

"So, it'd be seven o' clock on Monday morning, I'd have gotten, like, two hours of sleep, and I'd be thinking to myself, 'I'm doomed'! You ever wish you could just stay in bed so nothing bad could happen?"

"All the time. When I get up everyday, it's like I know I'm in over my head. Like I shouldn't even bother trying."

"He says I shouldn't wait up for him, but I can't help it. I just can't sleep without knowing he's there."

"He makes you feel secure. Like Linus's blanket."

"Sorta. What makes you feel secure, Chuck?"

"I haven't really found anything that makes me feel secure. The closest thing I've found is thinking about falling asleep in the back seat of a car. When you're little, and you're riding home with your mom and dad, you can just drift off. You don't have to worry about anything, because your parents are there, they do all the worring for you and would never let anything bad happen..."

"That does sound pretty neat."

"But it doesn't last. Suddenly, those days are gone and you can't get them back."

Beat.

"Anyway, having someone like that must be nice."

"I feel like I don't deserve someone like him, but it is pretty nice. He always says I'm his 'rare gem'."

"I'd have to agree with him. You are pretty special."

"How do you mean?"

"You like baseball."

"Uh huh. I could play baseball everyday and never get tired of it."

"That's awful special for a girl."

"You kinda like me, don't you, Chuck?"

"I don't know. Do you like me more than I like you?"

"...let's not play lover's games, Chuck!"

* * *

"Lately everything seems to bother me."

"How so?"

"I've got a problem, Chuck. And, uh...I don't really want to tell you."

"Why not? Do you not trust me or something?"

"No, no, nothing like that! It's just...I'm afraid you won't understand. It's kinda a girl thing."

"Oh. In that case, I probably wouldn't. You might want to talk to Lucy if that's the case."

"Lucille?! Are you crazy?!"

"What?"

"She destroys anyone who speaks to her! Talking to her would make it worse!"

"She only destroys me and Linus. And even then she tries to help... in her own brutally honest and crabby way."

"Maybe. I don't really know."

"That's just what I suggest though."

"I'm sort of curious about something."

"Shoot."

"Do you think you'll ever get married, Chuck?"

"Hopefully."

"What kinda girl do you think you'll marry?"

"Um... I like to avoid talking about stuff like this because it may sound silly... it would be nice if she called me 'poor, sweet baby'..."

"Poor, sweet baby?!"

"Yup. If I was tired or depressed or something, she'd cuddle close to me, kiss me on the ear and whisper, 'Poor, sweet baby'..."

"Forget it, Chuck. It'll never happen!"

* * *

Lucy sat at her booth, expecting her usual visit. Every day, 2:30, Charlie Brown would always have another new problem to solve for a nickel. She had considered raising the prices, but it didn't seem fair to Charlie Brown. Besides, she made enough as it was. What she was not expecting was Peppermint Patty, sitting on the stool.

"What are _you_ doing here?"

"Hi to you to, Lucille. I have a problem. Do you think you could help me for a nickel?"

"For a nickel? I could cure anything!"

"Right. I... I think Chuck likes me. And, I, uh, well..."

"You're joking."

"I feel something for him."

"You can't be serious."

"I don't know what it is! Is it love? How did I fall in love with Chuck?! I mean, he's a nice guy, but... I can strike him out on three pitches! Can you help me?"

"For a nickel?! You're a hopeless case!"

"I can't believe he thought talking to you would help anything. Look, just keep this hush, O.K? It's kinda personal."

"I won't tell anyone, but you'll have to pay double."

"No wonder Chuck's so messed up. Going to your scam of a business for help and all."

"Keep talking and you'll have to pay triple."

"Fine! O.K? Take your money! But don't tell him, please?"

"He won't know you were ever here."

Lucy smiled as the dime clanged into her collection can. Today was a good day.

She left, and not thirty seconds later, her favorite (and usually only) customer appeared.

"Hey, Charlie Brown. Another session, another problem, right?"

"Actually, I'm feeling...strange. Confident, maybe? For the first time in months, I feel like something's going my way."

"Your blood sugar's probably up. Five cents please."

"Ha ha. But seriously, I feel like I'm contributing something. Like I'm really helping someone. That's what makes life worthwhile, right? Helping others?"

"How should I know?"

"I've met someone like me."

"Horrifying, isn't it?"

"They have the same problems I have."

"They lose at everything?"

"Well, no. But they have the self-esteem issues I have. We help each other."

"So who is this person you're helping?"

"I don't know if I should tell you...it's kinda personal."

"What about patient-doctor confidentiality? I took the hypocritical oath!"

"You mean hypocratic?"

"Same thing."

"If you must know, it's...Peppermint Patty."

"Ha ha ha ha! Oh, that's rich! You come up with some good stories, Charlie Brown!"

"But it's not a story! It's true!"

"Do you think anyone else could be like you? Heaven forbid we have _two_ of you! No, you are the anomoly of the universe, Charlie Brown. You are the one, the only, the Charlie Browniest person that ever has, is, or ever will exist. Period."

"Don't believe me. I don't care. But you can't ruin this for me. The way this is going, this might be the last nickel you ever get from me."

Clang! There it was, that specific tone. A nickel. As he walked away, she tried to pull her thoughts together. Peppermint Patty was in love with Charlie Brown?! Charlie Brown was in love with Peppermint Patty?! And they had equal amounts of self-esteem?! This could be very bad for business...she had to do something...

Oh. Oh! That could work... this could be very _good_ for business.

* * *

 **A/N: 4 chapters in and I found the plot! Well...maybe not THE plot, but A plot!**


	5. The Rumor

Chapter Five: The Rumor

Charlie Brown walked over to the bridge. It was a popular spot in the neighborhood - a brick bridge over a small brook that froze over in the winter and dried up in the summer. Often he and Linus would lean against the bricks to talk. Unfortunately for him, Violet and Patty (the other Patty) were chatting. He started to turn around, when he heard, "Oh, Charlie Brown! Could I talk to you for a second?"

"What do you want, Violet?" He wasn't really in the mood for this. He was having a perfectly good day - true, it didn't seem like Violet could ruin it, but he had been wrong before.

"Oh, nothing much. Just wanted to discuss something with you."

"Let me guess - you're having a party and I'm not invited?"

"No, actually there was something else. Though, I am having a Fourth of July party, and you _are not_ invited."

"So what is it?"

"How've you been lately? It's been a while since we talked. Same as usual?"

"Actually, I'm doing fine. You?"

"Oh, let's not talk about me. Getting the most out of life?"

"Could you stop asking vague questions and just insult me already?"

"Fine. I didn't want to be this direct, but there's one thing you need to know..."

"What?"

"There's this... cosmic principle. You only get what you give in life. Nothing more, nothing less. And you, well... this whole 'happiness' thing you're getting? It doesn't really fit into reality. You've _gave_ nothing that I can see, and so you should _get_ nothing. Anything else is just illogical. Wrong."

"Maybe I have gave something. Maybe you just didn't see it."

"Oh, is that the case? You've been helping people, huh?

"Why do you care?"

"If you've been helping people, things change. You give, and therefore get happiness in return."

"That's not really how I thought about it, Violet. In fact, if you put it that way, it sounds kinda selfish."

"You stop and think about it long enough, Charlie Brown, and everything is selfish. The thing is, I get this feeling you're gonna get something more."

"No thanks. I'm content with what I have."

"Even after years of misery? Years of suffering and depression, and you'll go through it all for one day of happiness? Nothing more?"

He had to admit it - he did want more. This feeling was nice, but he wanted everything that was coming to him. He knew it was selfish, but he couldn't help it.

"...maybe I do want a bit more."

She pointed to the trees over the bridge. "Just hang around over there for a second."

"Why?"

"I just... have this premonition. Something's going to happen on this bridge, and you're gonna want to be around when it happens."

This was stupid.

"...O.K."

This was really stupid. Violet hadn't been out to help him in a long time. But he had to know. He peeked out over the trunk. Peppermint Patty walked towards the bridge, wearing her green and black shirts and those ever-lasting sandals.

"Hey, Pat! Can I talk to you for a sec?"

" _Pat_? Call me that again and I'll slug you. What do you want, Grey?"

"Just wanted to check up on you, Patricia. I'm kinda curious about something.."

"What?"

"Oh, nothing. Just a rumor that's flying around. You know how it is. Gossip here, smalltalk there..."

"What rumor?"

"Well, I heard that you might have a crush."

"A crush, huh?" She was trying to play it cool. Trying and failing.

"Uh-huh. On our friend Charlie Brown. You wouldn't know anything about that by any chance, would you?"

"No. No! Who would say that? How could anyone love Chuck? He's so oblivious! I think a rock is smarter than him! No. No one will _ever_ love wishy-washy, boring, stupid ol' Chuck!""

He could hear his heart snapping into fragments. He couldn't even feel betrayed, because everything she said was true. You couldn't be angry at someone for telling the truth, can you?

"I'm glad to hear we feel the same. But, you see, there's someone else you need to explain that to."

"Who?"

"You might want to look behind those trees," said Violet, as she waltzed off.

He stepped out and started to cross, not caring if anyone saw his mood take a nose dive. Patty's face flushed beet red.

"C-Chuck! What, uh, did you-"

"Save it, Patty. I heard it all." He kept walking.

"Wait, please, let me explain!"

"You've explained it so well even I can understand. Do me a favor and leave me alone." He walked on, not sure where he was heading.

* * *

Marcie had no idea what was going on. One moment she was reading "Catcher in the Rye", and the next, her friend was calling her in tears. She headed over, prepared for anything and everything.

"Uh, sir?"

She was lying there, in bed, her head buried in pillows, covered up to the neck. Sobbing into the bedspread.

"Do you mind telling me what happened?"

"I blew it, Marcie," she sniffled, her voice muffled by the pillows. "Why do these things always happen? It got out that I liked Chuck. I tried to deny it, but he heard everything I said! I ripped into him! I said no one could ever love him! When I think about what I said, I just want to shrivel up and die. I feel awful. When I think about how he must feel, I just want to kill myself!"

"So why did you say that?"

"I... you don't understand. With these things, you just have to deny and pray it goes away. I know from experience."

"You still shouldn't have done that."

"I know, O.K?! Why can't I act right outside of a baseball field?

She wiped her nose onto her pillow.

Could you, uh..."

"Yes, sir?"

"...go and apologize for me?"

"Not this again! Why don't you do it?"

"I'm not good with these things. I always make things worse. Could you please just... do it for me?"

"Fine. I'll try, sir. But you should really do it yourself. It's not going to mean anything from me."

"Believe me, Marcie. You'll do better than I could. If I tried to apologize, I'd probably just destroy his self-esteem some more. I'm so horrible to everyone I know... I'm just a burden. I don't even deserve to know Chuck. He shouldn't have to put up with me..."

This was bad. Marcie had never seen her like this. "I'll be back, sir."

* * *

Knock knock knock.

The door swung open. Sally stared for a moment.

"Is Charles home?"

"Depends. You are?"

"Marcie Johnson. A friend of his."

"My brother doesn't really have friends."

"How can you say that?! You barely know me!"

"But I know my brother."

She walked down the hall.

"His door's to your left."

She knocked softly.

"Who is it?" Said the voice behind the door.

"It's me... Marcie. Patty sent me over to talk to you for her."

"Oh. How diplomatic of her." Marcie knew that tone. He was bitter. She couldn't blame him.

"Sorry, Marcie, but I don't really feel like talking to anyone right now. Nothing personal."

"If my brother doesn't want to talk, you should probably go."

"I suppose talking to you wouldn't help, would it?"

"What do you think?"

"Probably not."

"Good job, genius. Bye."

* * *

"So, how'd it go?"

"He didn't let me in."

"He didn't?"

"Says he's not in the mood to talk. To me, anyway."

"Oh. I bet I hurt his feelings real bad, didn't I? We had something good going, too..."

For some reason, Marcie felt agitated. Something Peppermint Patty said struck her.

"Maybe you did something wrong, Marcie. Maybe go back and-"

"No."

"What?"

"No! I'm done being your messenger. You had me do this before, remember that Thanksgiving? It didn't work that time either. You're afraid of making a mistake? Too bad. This is _your_ mess, and you need to clean it up, _sir_."

"...Yeah. You're right Marcie. I'm sorry. I shouldn't have dragged you into this. I'll try to fix this." She sat up on the edge of the bed.

"Good."

"I don't know if I can though. I deserve for him to hate me! How am I going to convince him not to?"

"He doesn't hate you, sir. He's not capable of hating anyone. He may have heard what you said, but he's still Charlie Brown. I mean, he still pays for Lucy's psychiatric booth, he still tries to kick the football, and he still tries to win a baseball game against you! If he was going to hate people, he would have started a long time ago."

"I guess so. Wish me luck, Marcie," she said as she walked towards the door.

"Carpe diem, sir!"

"I don't understand French, Marcie. And stop calling me 'Sir'!"

* * *

"Wow. Two visitors in one day. That might be a new record."

Sally showed her in.

"Did I miss something?"

"Kinda."

"His door's on your left."

Knock. Knock. Knock.

"What now, Marcie?"

"Uh, Chuck? It's me, not Marcie. Can I come in?"

"Sure. Why not. I don't know."

She stepped in. He was laying on top of his cover, staring at the ceiling.

"So, uh... look, Chuck. You have every right to hate me for what I said. But can I please explain?"

"Like I said, you don't need to. I get it."

"No, you don't Chuck! Alright?! You don't!"

He winced.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean any of what I said. You're not stupid, or wishy-washy, or any of that to me. I just... if I didn't try to deny it, she would've used me for target practice. And I've had my fill of being mocked!"

"Wears you down after a while, doesn't it?"

"Yeah."

The only sound was the buzzing of a fan.

"I-It's not easy for me to do this, you know, Chuck..."

"I know."

"I'm not good at this stuff. I wish I was."

More buzzing form that ceiling fan.

"Do you forgive me?"

"Of course I do. Just... give me a little bit, please. I'll talk to you tomorrow, I just need to sort things out."

"That sounds fair. See you then, Chuck."

"Bye, Patty."

* * *

 **A/N: So, yeah. Not the most original plot point, but hopefully it amused you. Next chapter will have another letter. Fun fact: If you start around chapter four, and you're dedicated enough, you can find most of the dialogue is nods to '70's Peanuts strips. I don't own these Peanuts strips, but that doesn't mean I can't use for inspiration! See you for the next chapter!**


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